Scorpius Malfoy and the Stone-Carved Skull
by thayle
Summary: Scorpius and Albus must work together to face a new, grave threat to the wizarding world. Along the way they will discover new enemies, old truths, and the depths of their friendship. Scorbus. Slow burn. Cursed Child compliant.
1. Prologue: Strange Meeting

**Prologue: Strange Meeting**

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy flitted joyfully between the rows and stacks of books in Flourish and Blotts, barely able to contain his excitement as he collected the required texts listed for first-years attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Although Scorpius' father had pointed out that whole sets of first-year textbooks were already compiled at the front of the store, Scorpius had insisted it would be much more exciting to go in search of each book individually. With each new find he would race back to his mother and father, drop the tome in his newly-purchased cauldron, kiss his mother on the cheek, and immediately turn on his heels to speed off in search of his next book.

Scorpius was particularly excited today because his mother, Astoria Malfoy, had made a special effort to travel to Diagon Alley with her son. Astoria was often quite unwell and unable to leave Malfoy Manor, however she had been determined to mark what she saw as an important event in her son's life. "I wouldn't dream of missing your first Hogwarts shopping trip," she had told Scorpius earlier that morning. "I want to be there when you're fitted for your robes, and when you receive your first wand. And besides," she had said, taking Scorpius' cheeks in her hands playfully, "who will help to convince your father that you need a pet to keep you company while you're away at school?"

Since Astoria usually had the most energy early in the mornings, that's when the Malfoys had begun their shopping, and they had enjoyed relative freedom from crowds as a result. As the morning pressed on, however, Flourish and Blotts began to fill with the families of other students doing their back-to-school shopping, and Scorpius was beginning to worry that his mother had been on her feet for longer than they'd anticipated.

As Scorpius dropped his final book into his cauldron with an excited half-dance, he looked up to see a boy around his age descending a staircase in the rear corner of the store. The other boy looked almost as excited as Scorpius had been feeling that morning, and the grin stretched across his face was full of delight. Scorpius' breath caught in his chest for just the fraction of a moment, and the noise of the store became more muffled and distant, as something completely new and foreign stirred deep within his gut.

"What's wrong, darling?" Astoria asked, seeming rather disappointed that Scorpius hadn't repeated his previous shows of affection. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Scorpius said quickly. He wondered why he felt so deeply embarrassed that his mother had noticed him watching this other boy.

As Scorpius tried to judge whether his cheeks might be turning a shade of pink, the other boy's father found him and made his way over to collect his son.

"Well, wouldn't you know ... " Draco Malfoy said with a harder edge than he had intended. "If it isn't the Potters."

Scorpius was genuinely surprised. Harry Potter looked different in real life than he did in the photos Scorpius had seen, and much shorter than the hero he had imagined as his mother told him stories of the Second Great Wizarding War. He'd heard his father speak about Harry Potter before, and although he'd not had unkind words to say in front of Scorpius about the wizarding world's most famous family, he knew there was a lot of bad history shared between the two men. His heart sank.

"Oh Draco," Astoria said. "Don't you think it's time the two of you put to bed all of those old feelings? Scorpius will be in the same year as one of the Potter boys, you know. Albus, I think is his name."

 _Albus_ , Draco thought to himself.

"And no doubt he'll be sorted into Gryffindor like the rest of his family, so there will be little cause for them to talk, I'm sure."

"Don't you think it would be sweet if our children could rise above those old family grudges? And the Potter boy would be lucky to have a friend like Scorpius," Astoria replied, smiling warmly at Scorpius and gently brushing his cheek.

Scorpius felt a bubble rising in his chest as his mother spoke. The excitement of the day must have been getting to him. He stole a glance in the direction of Harry Potter and his son, conscious to avoid eye contact with Albus. Due partly to his mother's house-bound condition, and partly due to rumours he knew circled the Malfoy name, Scorpius had not spent a lot of time with children his own age, and he supposed his sudden curiosity in Albus could simply be attributed to a desire to make friends. Even so, he felt stupid thinking about the glow he felt when he saw Albus fingering the same fiction book he had been considering buying earlier. What was wrong with him today?

Scorpius was still looking at the pair when he felt his mother's hand grab for his shoulder. A weight pressed down on him as she tried to prevent herself from collapsing. Scorpius quickly flung his arm around her waist, and Astoria regained enough of her strength that she could support her own weight again.

"Astoria …" Draco said, his voice full of worry. "Are you ok?"

Astoria nodded her reply. "I'm sorry, darling," she said to Scorpius, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't think I have the strength to take you to the pet store today after all."

"That's ok mum," Scorpius said. "We've been to loads of places already. We've got everything from the list now, and you even bought me loads of candy for the trip to Hogwarts. What more could I ask for?" He gave her a tight hug to show how much he truly appreciated the effort she'd made to be with him today. "Why don't we wait outside while dad finishes buying these books?"

Scorpius took his mother's hand and led her outside, turning just once more to cast a final glance in the direction of the boy who had so quickly captured his attention.

. . .

Hermione Granger sat deep within the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, scratching notes on a sprawling piece of parchment as the wizards around her spoke. As Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Hermione was charged with taking meticulous notes at meetings such as this one, and reporting information to her immediate supervisor. While this had always been a strength of hers, today Hermione was struggling to keep her attention on what was being said. Her notes were still punctilious, she was quite sure, but too often her mind would wander back to a phrase uttered earlier in the briefing: forced registration of Muggle-borns.

Usually the daily interdepartmental meeting of cabinet officials struggled to draw more than four or five attendees, but today each seat at the large, round table was filled. This morning's meeting was being led by Alfres Burntiddle, a burly looking wizard attached to the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Alfres had recently returned from a two-year posting to Germany, and this morning he was giving the various departments a debrief of the intelligence he had collected while posted overseas.

Alfres had begun by addressing the steady rise of anti-Muggle sentiments in parts of eastern Europe, including a growing push to introduce mandatory registration of Muggle-borns. This had sounded barbarous to Hermione's ears, however he had assured those in attendance at the morning briefing that this was a well-intentioned move to head off more totalitarian steps.

To Hermione, the idea such demands could be suppressed by legalising and thus legitimising anti-Muggle sentiments seemed weak, naive and self-defeating. Worse, it reminded her of a much darker time when, as a child, she had witnessed her own Ministry's desperate attempts to avoid confrontation. It was times like these, when she saw other nations making the same mistakes her own had made so many years ago, that she remembered how insulated the rest of the world had been against Voldemort's reign.

When Alfres opened the room to questions Hermione was the first person to speak. "I noticed you didn't mention Gerwalt Boite during your briefing," she began. "Isn't her influence over the Black Forest wizarding communities significantly shaping these anti-Muggle sentiments across Europe?"

"I wouldn't judge her involvement as particularly significant at this time," Alfres replied.

"I've heard reliable intel that Gerwalt has also orchestrated a number of attacks against Muggles throughout broader Germany? Surely if she has the support to agitate for violence throughout Germany, her influence may begin stretching into Eastern Europe."

Alfres adjusted himself in his chair before he replied, sitting up taller than he had been before. Hermione wondered if he would have felt the need to assert his physical stature if he hadn't been speaking to the only witch in the room. "Gerwalt has been tied to a number of fairly insignificant attacks - nuisances, really - against Muggles throughout Germany, but her movements remain domestic at this time, and there is no evidence to suggest this will change in the foreseeable future."

"What's the likelihood of similar attacks starting up in Britain?" an older wizard asked. Hermione didn't recognise him, but the way his moustache twitched as he spoke made her think of a small mouse cleaning its whiskers.

"I don't think that's likely at all," Alfres replied. "Based on documents I've seen from the German Ministry, Gerwalt's little group of renegades should be put down within the next twelve months, and that should be an end to it." Alfres allowed himself a satisfied smile, as if he had put an end to this line of questioning, and began to rise.

"Have you submitted a request to mobilise our aurors in support of the Germans?" Hermione asked.

Alfres' smile vanished. "No."

"Do you have plans to do so?" Hermione pressed. Alfres shot a steely gaze at the witch and slowly retook his seat.

"No, Miss Granger, we do not. We have only just begun moving past the second great Wizarding War, and I'm afraid there is simply no appetite for international conflict in Britain. Besides, I promise you, within the next eighteen months the Germans will have their situation under control and no British auror will have put his life-"

"His or her life," Hermione interrupted.

"Yes. His, or her, life on the line," Alfres said, forcing a polite smile.

Hermione wanted to push the subject, but she could see there would be no point. Even if she could convince the jumble of deputy heads at this morning's briefing that acting early would prevent greater conflict in the future, she knew her own department head would never take such a suggestion to Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic. Alfres was right, there was no way British wizards and witches would allow its Ministry to lead them into a foreign war, no matter how just the cause.

Even so, Hermione struggled to concentrate throughout the rest of her day, which was very much unlike her. In her next meeting she stared absentmindedly as a witch told her about a shipment of gillyweed that had been imported in violation of international trade agreements. Later she caught herself tuning in and out of a meeting on counterfeit Le Puissance dress robes being peddled in Diagon Alley. In fact, that evening, Hermione found herself reading and re-reading the first page of a report on recent incidents of illegal troll fighting when a sharp rap on her office door stirred her from her thoughts.

"Come in," she called.

Professor McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stepped into Hermione's office. Professor McGonagall had been a favourite teacher of Hermione's when she was at Hogwarts, and the younger woman had always admired the professor's keen wit and steely resolve, but even after all these years and in spite of the position of power to which Hermione herself had risen, she couldn't help but feel small as the headmistress stepped into her office.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. I can't say I'm surprised to see you are still hard at work after everyone else has gone home."

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, proffering her hand in welcome. "It's lovely to see you. Please, have a seat." Although she was far from an old woman by wizarding standards, Hermione couldn't help but notice McGonagall moved more slowly than she did as a teacher at Hogwarts, as though a great weight now hung around the woman's neck.

Mcgonagall sat down, and Hermione was pleasantly surprised to see her old teacher smiling. "It's always encouraging to see past students make positive contributions to our magical community. Speaking of which, how is that husband of yours? Applying his talents for mischief in a productive way, I trust?"

"You could say that," Hermione replied. "Although, he could bare to spend less time testing his products on himself. Last night he came to bed with fluorescent green hair that glowed in the dark."

"And has he passed that sense of mischief onto your children? I believe Rose is joining us next year at Hogwarts."

"She is! I can't believe how quickly she's grown. She insisted we go out and buy her wand the day she received her letter, and she's been learning incantations ever since, ready to practice her spellcraft on the train ride to Hogwarts. But I dare say you haven't made the journey down to London just to reminisce with an old student."

"No, I'm afraid not," Mcgonagall said. "I had intended to meet with Kingsley this evening, but it seems he has taken rather ill. I wanted to discuss the worsening situation in Eastern Europe."

Hermione wasn't surprised to hear Mcgonagall had been keeping track of matters abroad. It seemed she had inherited more than Dumbledore's title when he had passed. "I'm afraid there's only so much I can share with you, Professor."

"And I would never ask that you betray the confidence of the Ministry, Miss Granger, but surely you have noted the recent Muggle attacks, the disturbing rhetoric being delivered by some foreign Ministries, Gerwalt Boite's ever increasing efforts to incite wizards and witches across Europe towards violence, and now I'm hearing rumours of mandatory registration of Muggle-borns. Surely these acts recall a dark time in our own history."

"I understand your concerns, Professor, but the Ministry isn't in a position to intervene at the moment." This was unquestionably the most distasteful part of her job. She could tell where this conversation was heading, and Hermione knew she would soon be honour bound to defend the Ministry's official position on entering foreign conflicts, a position with which she herself couldn't even agree.

McGonagall's lips grew thinner, and Hermione began to feel like a schoolgirl about to be chastised by her teacher.

"I can attest to the German Ministry of Magic's readiness to -"

"Hermione," Mcgonagall cut across, shocking Hermione with the use of her first name, "I know the official view of the Ministry, and I don't need you to parrot their lines to me. I'm asking for your view."

"Professor," Hermione began, standing to indicate the meeting was coming to an end, "I am the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement within the Ministry of Magic. I'm afraid that means the Ministry's view is my view."

McGonagall stood to meet Hermione's gaze. "Miss Granger, don't make the mistake of confusing loyalty for blind faith in others' judgement. When the day comes for you to take a stand for what you know is right, I hope you will make that stand regardless of how unpopular it may be."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! I love to get feedback, questions, comments, so please leave a review and let me know what you think, positive or negative!_

 _This prologue is just a bit of a dip back into the past to set the tone, but the rest of the story will take place over the boys' fifth year and after the events of the Cursed Child, when they're already best friends and moving towards something more. Hope you enjoy!_


	2. Chapter 1: The Unexpected Houseguest

**Spoiler Warning: Minor spoilers for HP and the Cursed Child ahead.**

* * *

 **Chapter One: The Unexpected Houseguest**

Scorpius Malfoy was very slowly becoming drenched by the morning drizzle. He estimated that within the next twenty minutes he would be soaked to the bone, unless he could find it within himself to cover the last few steps between where he currently stood and the front door to Number 16, Heath Lane.

It wasn't that he needed courage, per say, but Scorpius was the kind of boy who hated surprises and liked to know how things would play out before they had even begun. As things currently stood, though, he had absolutely no idea how the owner of Number 16 would react to opening his front door to a slightly soggy, kind-of-but-not-really uninvited, sixteen-year-old wizard and his fully packed trunk.

Scorpius sat on his trunk while he tried to decide what to do. He could always hail the Knight Bus and return home without ever disturbing the inhabitants of Number 16, though he supposed Stan Shunpike would be wroth to see him again after having only just dropped him off in the first place.

"Get a grip," Scorpius said to himself. "You saved the world last year. You stared down Dementors and worse. Whatever happens next, you can handle it."

"That's the spirit," a voice called down to him. Scorpius leapt to his feet, almost tripping on his robes as he did. "Although, to be fair, you did almost destroy the world first. It's unlocked." Before Scorpius could reply, Albus Potter's head had disappeared back into his bedroom.

Scorpius dragged his trunk up the Potter's footpath, knocked on the heavy wooden door, and waited patiently for someone to answer it. After a few agonising moments the door swung open, and he was greeted by Albus' beaming face.

"I told you it was unlocked," Albus said.

"I know, but I thought it would be rude to just barge in. Your dad's already going to lose his lid when he finds out you invited me without asking permission first."

"He'll be fine," Albus said, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

"Then why didn't you tell him I was coming?"

"Hmm …" Albus took a moment to think, before donning his best wise-old-wizard impression and stroking his long, invisible beard. "Better to ask forgiveness than ask permission." He laughed. "Now come in already!"

"I'm waiting for your dad," Scorpius said, craning his neck to look past Albus and into the house.

"You'll be waiting a long time then - he's at Diagon Alley with everyone else picking up our school supplies. Why are you outside anyway? Why didn't you just use the floo network?" Albus walked away into the house without waiting for an answer.

"I told you," Scorpius said, struggling with his trunk as he crossed the threshold. "I didn't want to just barge in. Showing up unannounced and covered in soot in the middle of your kitchen wouldn't have been the way to make a good impression."

From the outside, Number 16 had looked like a private two-storey cottage with thatched roofing and ancient brick work, but as soon as Scorpius stepped into the Potter's home he could tell some masterful spellwork was at play. The living area sprawled out in front of him, impossibly large for a house this size, but the feel of the place remained warm and inviting. From where he stood at the entrance to the Potter's home Scorpius could tell this was a very different household to the one he was used to. Where his house had cold marble tiles, Number 16 had soft wood floors, and where his home was bare to the point of being almost sterile, the Potters had taken the time to decorate their house with creature comforts and photographs of family and friends. There were also a number of odd Muggle contraptions spotted here and there throughout the house that Scorpius didn't recognise. The boy assumed this was the result of Mr Potter's upbringing in the Muggle world, and Albus' grandfather's well-documented obsession with Muggles.

By the time Scorpius had finished dragging his chest into a corner of the entryway Albus had returned with two glasses filled with a bright scarlet liquid. "Do you want a drink?" Albus asked, handing Scorpius one of the glasses before he could answer. "It's mum's secret recipe. She says it's full of vitamins, but it tastes great so I drink it anyway."

Scorpius accepted the homemade potion gratefully. Perhaps it was seeing his friend again after so many weeks apart, but he was suddenly feeling very warm and almost nostalgic, remembering when his own mother would prepare special treats for him and his father. "Can you show me around?" Scorpius asked.

It didn't take long for Albus to walk Scorpius through the ground floor of the house. While the outside of the house looked very traditional, the interior was much more modern, and the downstairs areas were defined by furniture rather than walls. From the entranceway you could look through the kitchen and into an area filled with a large dining table, continue into the lounge room, and right through to very large glass sliding doors that folded entirely away, so as to give the impression that the living room opened naturally into the gardens at the back of the house. "Mum says it lets the energy flow through the house or something," Albus said, "but I think it's just so she can keep an eye on us while she's cooking dinner."

"So when will your family be back?" Scorpius asked.

"Soon, I imagine. Do you want to see my room?"

"Yeah!" Scorpius hadn't meant to sound so eager, but Albus had always been fairly private about his home life, and Scorpius was excited to see the space Albus had carved out for himself here. Luckily, Albus hadn't seemed to notice how excited Scorpius was to go up to the other boy's bedroom.

As it turned out, Scorpius was fairly disappointed when the boys arrived upstairs. Albus had always been the rebellious type, particularly when his father was involved, and Scorpius had been expecting something drastic, angsty and in your face. Instead, the bedroom looked almost boring, without even a single poster on the wall. "It's a bit … plain, isn't it?" Scorpius had asked. That's when he noticed the other boy's cheeky grin.

Albus walked over to the heavy drapes hung near his window and pulled them closed. When he lit a large, purple candle held in the candelabra on his desk the room was bathed in bright, different coloured lights. But these lights weren't coming from the candle, which burned a black flame, but from fluorescent markings shining from all over the walls, the wardrobe and even the ceiling. Albus had used some kind of magic to graffiti over almost every surface in the room. "Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," Albus said in response to the look of surprise on Scorpius' face. "You have to buy the candle and the markers as a set, but it's worth it, don't you think?"

Scorpius absolutely did. Looking around he saw Albus had sketched onto the walls his own designs for posters of his favourite wizarding band, The Crying Vamps, and had even sketched a poster of the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team, which Scorpius thought was quite sweet given Mrs Potter had once been their star chaser. Scorpius also noticed the odd swear word scribbled here and there, which he supposed added that _angsty_ element he had been expecting. But by far the most number of surfaces were covered in creative and interesting sketches, some bordering on the abstract and downright artistic. "I never knew you could draw," Scorpius said as he walked the perimeter of the room, carefully examining each sketch and doodle. He could make out a dragon riding a broomstick, what looked like a murderous pigeon brandishing a butcher's knife, and landscape in which the Whomping Willow, a tyre swing and two lovebirds featured prominently. "You're very talented."

"You're the only person I've shown," Albus said. It was hard to tell in the multi-coloured lights reflecting from the walls and ceiling, but Scorpius thought he could see his friend blushing ever so slightly.

Just as Scorpius had noticed a very carefully drawn sketch that he thought might have been him, a loud crashing sound emanated from downstairs. The Potters had returned from Diagon Alley. Albus ran to blow out the candle and open the drapes, and the boys were standing in a plain, boring bedroom once again. "What do we do now?" Scorpius asked.

"Quick, out the window!" Albus said, bursting into laughter when Scorpius had actually started to head towards the window. "We go downstairs, you idiot. They'll have noticed your trunk by now anyway." The boys walked downstairs, Scorpius following sheepishly behind Albus.

"The very nerve of that fat old witch," Scorpius could hear Mrs Potter saying loudly as they made their way into the downstairs area. "If she thinks she can accuse me of editorialising for Hermione in a sports column - I mean, how can you editorialise in favour of _anything_ in a bloody sports column - well she can just ..." Mrs Potter stopped mid sentence when she saw Scorpius enter the room, and the blank look on her face made plain her surprise at having an unexpected guest in the house.

Mr Potter looked up from what he had been doing in the kitchen when his wife stopped mid-sentence, but his expression was anything but blank. To Scorpius, the look on Harry Potter's face seemed to move from confused, to angry, to disappointed all too quickly.

James Potter, who had been helping his younger sister Lily restack a collection of pots she had knocked over, said, "Whoa, Albus, you're gonna get it now."

"That's enough, James," said Mr Potter. "Albus, why -"

"Scorpius," Mrs Potter said warmly, cutting her husband off. "It's lovely to see you again. Have you been here long?"

"Uh, hi Mrs Potter, Mr Potter" Scorpius said, waving awkwardly to Ginny and Harry in turn. "Um, no … I only arrived a short time ago. Did you … enjoy your shopping?"

Albus didn't wait for his mother's reply. "Can Scorpius stay for the week?" he asked. Before either parent could answer, he added, "Only, his dad's away on business for a few weeks and he's already brought his trunk to go back to school from here." Four pairs of eyes turned towards the entrance, where Scorpius' trunk was still sitting against the wall.

"Scorpius," Mr Potter began, "you're very welcome anytime, but we weren't expecting you. And does your father know you're here? And how did you even get here?"

"I may have forgotten to tell him," Scorpius said timidly. "But, you know how he is .. and especially when it's to do with _Those Potters_." On these last two words Scorpius had attempted his very best Draco Malfoy impersonation, but realised a moment later that perhaps this wasn't the right crowd. "And, you know … better to … ask forgiveness than … permission?" He said this as much more of a question than Albus had taught him earlier. "Oh, and I caught the Knight Bus," he said, rather proud that he had managed to arrive safely without the assistance of a chauffeur, chaperone or house elf. Mr Potter didn't seem to share in Scorpius' excitement over his burgeoning independence. "I'm sorry," Scorpius said, "I shouldn't have come. I didn't mean to cause -"

"I told him to come over and that he could stay," Albus cut across. Scorpius noticed Albus had been watching his father's face very carefully, almost as though he was waiting to see - or possibly even wanting to see - Harry explode. Scorpius tried not to feel used.

"Of course he can stay," Mrs Potter said. "I remember when I was growing up we had all sorts passing through The Burrow, and it only made times brighter and cheerier. And if you didn't arrive by flying car," at this she shot a quick glance in Mr Potter's direction, "then all the better. Of course you must stay. But if you'd like to stay I will insist on sending an owl to your father to let him know where you are."

"Yes," agreed Harry. "I'm afraid we don't have a spare bedroom, so you'll have to sleep on the floor in Albus' room, but I'm sure we can whip something up to make you comfortable. Albus, help Scorpius carry his trunk up to your room." Scorpius couldn't believe his luck.

"It would be a lot easier if you just cast a levitation charm on it and -"

"Come on, Albus," Scorpius said, literally dragging the other boy away towards his trunk. "Quit while you're ahead."

It took the boys a few minutes to carry Scorpius' trunk upstairs, but by the time they had finally put it down again Scorpius was feeling a lot better about the whole situation. He had been looking forward to staying with Albus for weeks, and he could finally let himself believe that it was really happening. "You know," he said to Albus, "even though we practically live together at Hogwarts, this somehow seems more fun."

"Agreed," Albus said, smiling broadly to his best friend. "I hope I don't get sick of you before the week's out, though," he added cheekily, winking at Scorpius and heading back downstairs.

* * *

Thanks for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I love hearing positive and constructive feedback, so please comment. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 2: The Malfoy Family Letter

**Chapter Two: The Malfoy Family Letter**

It only took a few days of staying with the Potters for Scorpius to decide this had been one of the best Summer holidays of his life. Even though things seemed tense between Albus and his father, Mr and Mrs Potter had made Scorpius feel welcome, and he even enjoyed spending time with James and Lily. Albus, too, had been enjoying Scorpius' company, and the two boys spent much of their time holed up in Albus' room. On his first night sleeping over, Scorpius had even been invited to add something to Albus' wall of invisible art, although his poor attempt at drawing the Slytherin coat of arms had paled in comparison to the rest of Albus' drawings.

The only holiday that rivalled spending seven days with Albus and the Potters was the last trip Scorpius had taken with his mother. When he was twelve and his mother's health had begun to decline, his parents had taken him to visit Egypt and Burkina Faso. Scorpius had thought Africa was a truly fascinating place. Many of the older witches and wizards there hadn't even used wands when casting spells or enchantments, and Scorpius had learned that many people believed magic had first been birthed in Egypt. Although there was nothing particularly special about this trip, Scorpius remembered it fondly as the last time his mother had been well enough to laugh and be joyful, and the last time the three of them had been truly happy together.

Two days before school was due to begin again Scorpius and the Potters were sitting at the breakfast table when the morning post arrived. The family's owl dropped two newspapers and a collection of letters in front of Mrs Potter. The first newspaper was _The Daily Prophet_ , which read "Snarke's Secret Fling: Cupid Takes Aim at this _Appleby Arrows_ Chaser". The second newspaper was _The Quibbler_ , and displayed a large image of a grizzly fire burning through a shopping mall. Splashed across the top of the broadsheet were the words "Gerwalt Boite Strikes Again: Muggle Complex Burns to the Ground, 17 Dead in Germany's Worst Attack in Weeks!"

" _The Quibbler_?" Scorpius asked. "I've never heard of it."

"We're family friends with the publisher," Lily said. "He's brilliant!"

"He's mental," James added.

"You'd be surprised how many high ranking Ministry officials have this paper delivered to keep an eye on what old Xenophilius is printing," Mr Potter added.

Mrs Potter had also received reply correspondence from Scorpius' father. In fact, Draco had sent two letters: one addressed to Mrs Potter, and one addressed to Scorpius himself. The letter to Mrs Potter had been written on an unremarkable piece of parchment, and curtly thanked her for informing him of his son's whereabouts. The second letter, the one addressed to Scorpius, had arrived in an envelope with black edging around it. Scorpius recognised what this meant immediately.

"Geez, Malfoy," James said when the family owl returned with Draco's reply. "I didn't think it was possible for you to get any paler."

Without finishing breakfast, Scorpius took his letter up to Albus' room, holding it carefully so as not to accidentally pry it open within view of the others. When he arrived upstairs he sat on Albus' bed and stared at the letter. Draco Malfoy was a very private person, and he would be loath to ever send something as crass and public as a howler, but respectable wizarding families still had cause to chastise their children, and some time ago the Malfoys had devised a very private manner in which to convey their displeasure over long distances.

"What is it?" Albus asked, causing Scorpius to jump back onto his feet.

"Bloody hell, Albus! I didn't think you were right behind me." Scorpius sat back down on Albus' bed and the other boy joined him. "It's something the Malfoys designed a very long time ago. I don't think they ever bothered naming it … I just call them Malfoy family letters." Suddenly, the letter began to wriggle, as if a live asp were trying to find a way out. "They're like howlers, but only the recipient can hear the message. It's like the howler is inside your head, and the sender of the letter is doing a tapdance on your brain."

"Why would your dad send you something like that?" Albus asked incredulously.

"I guess he wasn't as happy about me staying here as your parents are."

"So … are you going to open it?" The letter was becoming more and more violent as the seconds ticked on.

Scorpius didn't answer. He simply gave Albus a miserable look and, without breaking eye-contact, tore open the letter.

 _How dare you!_ _How dare you sully the Malfoy name by turning up at the Potters' door like a desperate orphan!_ The voice of Draco Malfoy was blasting in Scorpius' ears, bouncing and reverberating in his skull. _And catching the Knight Bus, like a pauper! What will people think_ _‽_ Scorpius' eyes were watering now. _Just wait until I return home._ The voice came to an abrupt end, and Scorpius unscrunched his face and wiped his watery eyes.

"Are you ok?" Albus asked.

"Actually, it wasn't that bad, all things considered. Still, I'm not looking forward to next time I see him."

"Actually, I have an idea," Albus said, grinning and bouncing up and down slightly. "Let's go shopping! We can pick something up for your dad too - that always helps make my mum less scary."

"I can't imagine your mum being scary at all," Scorpius said, digging a pinky though his ear to try to stop the ringing.

"Oh, you've only seen the nice Ginny Potter. You should have seen her when Lily spilt a pot of scarlet ink over the cat and it bolted all over the house leaving little paw prints on everything. And this one time, when I was seven, I accidentally cursed James so everything he walked past would fly up and hit him in the nose … she couldn't figure out what had happened and absolutely lost it that day."

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Scorpius said, sounding a lot less certain than Albus.

"Excellent! We can have a day at Diagon Alley."

"Err … do you really think _my_ dad wants anything you can buy at Diagon Alley? I mean, have you _met_ my dad?"

"Where then?" Albus asked.

"Maybe I shouldn't tell you until we get there," Scorpius said, smiling cheekily. He relished the idea that he knew something Albus didn't, and the other boy would have no choice but to trust him. "After all, this way you don't have to lie to your parents. Again."

The boys rushed downstairs and into the kitchen, where Mrs Potter had been preparing lunch for them. Albus had already grabbed a handful of floo powder before she'd even realised they were there, and hastily asked his mother's permission to go shopping before school began again on Monday.

"Take your brother with you," Mrs Potter said in a half-hearted attempt to provide a chaperone, but Albus, obviously expecting this, had already thrown his handful of floo powder into the chimney. The cooking fire burst into large green flames

"We're not babies, mum," Albus said, kissing his mother on the cheek. He stepped into the emerald green flames and said loudly, "Diagon Alley."

When Scorpius had thrown his own handful of floo powder into the fireplace, Mrs Potter reached out and gently held his arm, saying "Look after him, Scorpius."

Scorpius looked Mrs Potter in the eyes. In the green flames of the fires they looked just like Albus' eyes. Scorpius thought a thin layer of tears might be making the fire dance more brightly in Mrs Potter's eyes. "I will, Mrs Potter."

Ginny released Scorpius' arm and smiled a quiet smile.

"Diagon Alley," Scorpius said as he entered the flames, and in a flash he was arriving at Diagon Alley, and stepping out of a different fireplace to meet Albus again.

"Excellent!" Albus said. "Where to now?"

"Cobb & Webb's," Scorpius replied.

"Where's that? I've never heard of it."

"No, you wouldn't have. It's at the top of Nocturn Alley. Doesn't seem like the kind of place a Potter would normally go," Scorpius said slyly, winking at Albus. He began to head towards the entrance to Nocturn Alley before his friend could protest.

The boys had come out of a chimney midway through Diagon Alley, so they had to walk a short distance to their destination. Being only two days before the beginning of the new school year Diagon Alley was bustling with families gathering last minute supplies. Mothers pushed their way through crowds, dragging their listless offspring behind them as they furiously ticked items off lists, and Scorpius noticed more than one hopeful boy lock eyes with the entrance to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes as they passed, before being lost again in the sea of witches and wizards. Albus stopped walking and pointed to a little blonde girl trailing a floating cauldron twice her size and filled with textbooks, robes and quills behind her. "I swear," Scorpius said, "these First Years get smaller every year."

Scorpius recognised a few familiar faces, too, but no one he would consider close, and certainly no one who would want to introduce their families to the _Son of Voldemort_ and the _Slytherin Squib_. Even after the events of last year Albus and Scorpius remained about as popular as a vampire at a blood drive. In fact, when details of last year's plot to return you-know-who had begun to surface, Karl Jenkins had spread a malicious rumour that Albus and Scorpius had really been trying to resurrect him, and that the only reason they hadn't already been sent to Azkaban was because of their powerful fathers. People had been afraid to sit next to them in the Great Hall for two weeks after that.

Soon enough, the boys had arrived at the entrance to Nocturn Alley. "Gee," Albus said, beginning to look a little uncomfortable. "It's sure a lot less crowded than Diagon Alley." In fact, the narrow walkway opening up in front of them appeared to be completely bare of people.

"Well, you won't find anything on the Hogwarts reading list up here," Scorpius said, and he began to walk up the laneway towards the top of Nocturn Alley.

"You're lucky you're my best friend," Albus called after him.

"What do you mean?" Scorpius asked, turning and walking backwards up the pavement. "I'm your _only_ friend."

What Scorpius had neglected to tell Albus was that his father had only ever brought him to Cobb & Webb the once. Even so, that quick visit up Nocturn Alley had left a lasting impression on the boy, and when the pair stepped up to the store window Scorpius discovered very little had changed. The window was covered in a thick layer of grime and dust, and at its center stood a human skeleton wearing any number of fine jewels. To the right of the skeleton was a floating slab of marble displaying a collection of mismatched and ancient-looking silverware, and to its left was a very large, equally ancient globe that spun slowly on its axis.

A lone bell rang out as Scorpius pushed open the door, startling the frail old witch dozing behind the counter. "Ah, Master Malfoy," she said, squinting at Scorpius and Albus as they stepped into the dim. "So nice to see you again. And who's your friend?" Scorpius took a moment to answer, surprised the old witch remembered him at all.

"Al-"

"Alfred Schwentz," Scorpius lied.

"Well, Masters Malfoy and Schwentz," the witch said with a knowing smile, "please let me know if there's anything I can help you with today."

When the boys had stepped away from the counter Albus elbowed Scorpius as if to question why he had just lied. "Even now," Scorpius said in a hushed voice, "even after twenty-three years, the name Potter is unwelcome in some circles." Although this was probably true, Scorpius really had no idea if the old witch would cared about such things. Mostly, he was just enjoying watching Albus look more and more nervous as the afternoon drew on.

Every square inch of the store seemed to be filled with something for sale. Pieces of furniture in every size divided the floorspace into rough aisles, and odd collections of antiques sat on every available surface. It was difficult to make sense of the jumble of objects making up each display, and Scorpius thought this was the kind of place you would have to visit three or four or even five times before being confident you had seen everything it had to offer. In the first aisle Scorpius passed a large pile of broaches sporting precious stones of every imaginable colour, a rusty bear trap, a blood-stained cutlass resting on a velvet pillow, a table filled with second-hand wands, and a rolled up carpet.

"I really can't imagine your father wanting any of these things," Albus said.

"Last time he brought me here he asked the witch at the front if anything special had arrived. Maybe we should do the same."

The boys turned to head back to the counter just as the little bell above the door rang again. Looking up, they saw a young man entering the store. He had straw-blonde hair and a smaller build than either of the boys, and he walked with as little confidence as Albus had been able to muster upon entering Nocturn Alley.

"Who's he?" Albus asked quietly.

"How should I know?" Scorpius replied.

"He looks about our age, but I've never seen him at Hogwarts before."

"Maybe he's just done a really good job of avoiding us." Albus tore his eyes away from the blonde boy to give Scorpius a withering look.

The other boy was greeted by the witch and began wandering around the store. When he saw Albus and Scorpius he gave them each a polite nod of the head and returned to his browsing.

As Albus began moving back to the front counter Scorpius spotted a flash of emerald green to his right. Sitting on a mahogany desk, partially hidden by a pile of decorative tea spoons, was a large grey stone that had been carved into the shape of a human skull. Sunken into the sockets of the skull were two large, brightly coloured emeralds. Scorpius stopped threading his way down the aisle so he could lift it off the table and weigh it in his hand. The stone was smooth and cool to the touch, but quite heavy. He turned the skull to the left and right, catching the dim light of the store in it's emerald eyes. Their colour reminded him of Albus.

He carried the skull to the front counter, arriving just as Albus tried to awaken the sleeping witch for the third time by awkwardly clearing his throat.

"No luck," Albus said. "Guess we'll just have to go."

Scorpius rolled his eyes and put the skull gently onto the counter.

"What's that," Albus asked, noticing the skull for the first time.

"Ahh, The Stone-Carved Skull," the old woman said, scaring both boys and making them jump. She was sitting up now and looked as alert as if she had never been asleep at all. "A powerful little trinket, especially for one as young as you, Master Malfoy. It's said that skull conveys the wisdom of all the ages to any who choose to unlock its secrets."

Scorpius looked at the skull. It was certainly pretty, but it looked most like a paper weight to him. "And how does one … unlock its secrets?" he asked skeptically.

"Dark blood magic," the witch said in barely more than a whisper. "The one who possesses the skull must offer up a blood sacrifice. Only then will the skull share its wisdom."

"Well, I could certainly do with some wisdom," Scorpius said to the witch. "We've got OWLs this year." Albus laughed.

"Don't be caught off guard by those pretty green eyes, little Master Malfoy," the witch said, looking meaningfully between the skull and Albus, then back to Scorpius. "This is a powerful magical item. And it doesn't come cheap."

Perhaps it was the witch's patronising tone, or the implicit challenge to the limit of his bank account, but when Scorpius walked out of Cobb & Webb's that afternoon he was the proud new owner of a silver and sapphire cloak-pin once owned by Grindelwald himself, and a large stone paper weight.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you thought (positive or negative, suggestions or just observations) by commenting. I love hearing from readers. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 3: The Boy Who Left

**Chapter Three: The Boy Who Left**

When Albus and Scorpius re-emerged into the bright sunlight of Diagon Alley the boys saw that the shopping street was much busier than it had been earlier that morning.

"I'm starving," Scorpius complained. "But these crowds are massive. Do you think there'll be any free tables in the Leaky Cauldron?"

Albus took a thoughtful look at the stream of parents and children doing their last minute shopping. "Hmm … probably. It'll be a close thing, but the new owners have expanded the dining area into a whole nother floor."

Scorpius was shocked. Hannah Longbottom had owned the Leaky Cauldron for as long as he could remember. In fact, the widespread knowledge that Professor Longbottom, his Herbology teacher, chose to buck Hogwarts tradition by living above the old pub with his wife was a regular talking point among students at the school.

"I had no idea the Longbottoms were thinking of selling," Scorpius said.

"Well, last time they were round for dinner Hannah told mum that she was thinking about training to become a healer, but later that night I overheard old Longbottom telling dad they'd been getting all sorts of threats and demands to sell to some anonymous investor. I guess they got sick of the hard sell."

"What sorts of threats?" Scorpius asked.

"He didn't really go into detail, but apparently there were some late night visits from some goons in masks, a few broken windows, stuff like that."

Scorpius remembered reading something in The Daily Prophet at the beginning of the Summer holidays about damage to the Leaky Cauldron, and the article had left him feeling a mixture of anger and deep sadness. According to the newspaper, a vile message targeting half-bloods had been scrawled one night across the door that joined the pub to Diagon Alley, and that same morning the passageway to Charing Cross Road had stopped allowing entrance to half-bloods and muggle borns.

Although most wizarding families accessed Diagon Alley through the flu network, it was common for witches and wizards from muggle families to make their first trip to Diagon Alley via the Charing Cross Road entrance. Scorpius thought about all the eleven-year-olds, who had just discovered the magical world, being led to buy supplies for their first year at Hogwarts and instead being met with a brick wall that refused to open for them. Would they think a mistake had been made and that they weren't magical at all? Or that it was all a cruel joke, and there was no such thing as a magical world hidden behind the plain streets of London? Scorpius felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Did they ever fix the Charing Cross Road entrance?" he asked Albus.

"Dad said it took the Ministry a week and a half to figure it out," Albus replied. "But eventually they got it. Dad said the witch or wizard who cast that spell must have been really powerful."

"You don't have to sound so impressed," Scorpius said, noticing a glimmer of mischief and something nearing admiration in Albus' tone. "Whoever cast that spell also wrote terrible things about Hannah and other half-bloods all over the Leaky Cauldron's door, and is probably the same person who forced out the Longbottoms."

Albus didn't reply, but his cheeks went a shade of pink Scorpius wasn't used to seeing on his friend's face.

When the boys entered the Leaky Cauldron the atmosphere of the old pub was notably different to the homey tone familiar to Scorpius. Everything seemed brightly lit, obnoxiously clean, and the wonderful, charred smell of burning wood that had been smoked into the walls and furniture over centuries was gone, replaced with something floral. In fact, the fireplace itself was gone, replaced with more tables and chairs to accommodate the crowd of back-to-school shoppers who at this moment filled the room with a near painful level of noise.

All around, excited first-years had spread their books, quills and uniforms in piles over already packed tables, while older teenagers lazed in their seats waiting for their families to finish their meals. Scorpius noticed a mother running between tables as she tried to herd her younger children, and more than a few parents taking long, exhausted gulps from their steins of butterbeer.

Scoprius and Albus joined a line leading to a newly added window that looked into the kitchen, and each chose meals from a greatly reduced lunch menu. They stood waiting to the side for a moment for their meals, which were delivered in record time on large metal trays.

"I can't see any free tables," Scorpius said, trying to balance his meal on his tray and navigate the busy dining rooms.

"Hey, look!" Albus replied a moment later, nodding to a table in the corner of the room. "It's that blonde kid we saw in Knockturn Alley. He's got some of the same books I had to buy for school this year on his table, so he must be attending Hogwarts. Let's see if we can get the scoop."

Scorpius was about to say something about invading people's privacy, but Albus had already started moving in that direction. Albus had cut a path through the crowd like a Niffler chasing a gold piece, but Scorpius found himself stumbling over bags and bumping into more than a few elbows. By the time he arrived at the blonde boy's table Albus had already taken a seat.

"Hi," Scorpius said weakly.

"Sit," Albus said, and he scooched over to make room. Albus gestured to the bolde boy with a torn off chunk of bread roll. "This is Cort Maier. I was just introducing myself."

"Hello. It's nice to meet you," Cort said pleasantly, proffering his hand to Scorpius. Scorpius thought he could detect a European accent.

"Hi," Scorpius said again, shaking Cort's hand. "I'm Scorpius. I think we saw you in Cobb & Webb's just before."

"Yes. A very strange place, but very interesting also. Did the two of you find anything?" Scorpius held up the bag carrying the two purchases he had made from the store. "Ah, nice. It was all a bit too expensive for me, but some very cool items in there."

"Where are you from?" Albus asked, rather bluntly Scorpius thought. "I haven't seen you around Hogwarts before."

"No, this is true," Cort replied, nodding his head as he spoke but keeping his eyes firmly focused on his meal. "I have been living in Germany, but transferred to Hogwarts this year."

"Oh wow, I didn't know you could do that," Scorpius replied. "I wouldn't mind a year in America," he said, elbowing Albus and laughing. Scorpius noticed Cort frown, and Albus ignored him altogether.

"Your accent isn't very thick and you speak English well," Albus commented.

"Yes, I spent a lot of my childhood holidaying in England. My father was a wizard in the German Ministry, and he met my mother in England while he was on deployment here. She taught me English and often spoke it with me at home."

"Your father _was_ a wizard …?" Albus repeated. The question hung in the air for a tense moment.

Cort eventually looked up from his meal, sharing a brief glance with both boys. "My mother was a muggle," Cort said, as if this somehow answered Albus' question, and he returned to his meal.

The boys sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, each of them making their way through their meals. Scorpius couldn't tell if it was the awkward feeling he was experiencing or a new recipe the kitchen had adopted, but his meal wasn't anywhere near as nice as he remembered it being the last time he and Albus had shared a meal at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Sorry," Albus said abruptly, "but I don't understand." Scorpius punched him in the leg under the table.

Cort looked up from his meal, looking slightly flushed. "Well, over the last few years in Germany things have been going bad for wizards and witches who married muggles, and even worse for half-bloods, like me, and muggle-borns. A few months ago there was an explosion and fire at my house. The ministry said it was a gas leak, but I'd been in there when it happened and I hadn't smelt any gas. Anyway, my dad was able to apparate me outside, but when he went back inside to look for my mother …" Cort broke off, not needing to finish the rest of his story.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Scorpius said. "I lost my mother a few years ago." The thought of Astoria Malfoy played on Scorpius' mind for a moment, but he was shaken from his reverie by the steelyness of Cort's eyes. Had he said something wrong?

"So why England?" Albus pressed.

"I have some distant family in Germany, but no one I'm very close to and no one willing to take on the trouble of welcoming a half-blood into their home."

"But half-bloods are pretty common."

"In England, yes, but in Germany many of the great wizarding families are still strongly opposed to marrying outside the community, and they have become very vocal about it. Gerwalt Boite has even started publicly calling for the removal of muggle born and half-blood wizards and witches from the community. A lot of people think the word 'removal' is code for something much more … final."

"Gerwalt Boite … I think I've heard of her," Albus said.

"She was accused of being the leader of a small wizarding malitia a few years ago and captured my the Ministry, but they could never prove anything against her. Now, she's a powerful public figure in Germany, and always in the Deutscher Express."

"So, not that I'm complaining or anything … but why England?" Albus asked again.

"Oh, your Ministry was the only nation to offer magical refugee status to half-bloods in my country. A handful of countries have started to accept German muggle borns, but England is the only nation who consider German half-bloods to be in credible danger at the moment." At this, both Albus and Scorpius looked at each other. Scorpius had overheard conversations between his father and some of his less pleasant acquaintances, so he knew things outside of England were getting tense, but he'd had no idea things in Europe had gotten so bad.

"I didn't even know magical refugees were a thing," Albus said.

"Actually, they weren't in England until recently. I guess there hadn't been much need for it in the last few decades. Luckily for me, your current Minister for Magic started the Special Program for the Emigration and Rehoming of Magical Refugees a few months back, just as things were getting their worst in Germany."

"Rose's mum?" Severus asked Albus. "I hadn't heard anything about that."

"Same," Albus confirmed. "Although, to be honest, I don't pay that much attention to the news. Anyway," he said, turning his attention back to Cort.

"Who are you staying with while you're in England?"

"Oh, officially I'm a ward of the state, but S.P.E.R.M.R is working directly with Hogwarts in my case, so they've awarded me a scholarship and board at the school."

"No way!" Scorpius exclaimed. "You live at Hogwarts? Like, full time?"

"Well, I will when the school year starts. For now, I'm lodging in one of the rooms upstairs and an old Witch who works at the school is looking in on me every few days. You might know her. Her name is Professor McGonagall."

"No way!" Scorpius repeated. "That's not just an old witch who works at Hogwarts - that's the Headmistress. I wouldn't like to be in your shoes!"

"She's been lovely to me," Cort said. "But to be honest, I'll be glad when I don't have to stay here anymore. Things were fine for the first few days, but a few weeks back the owners sold, and the new owner isn't anywhere near as nice."

"You've met the new owner?" Albus asked, incredulous. "I thought it was a big secret. Who is it?"

"Well, I did not catch a name. He was a tall man with a very pointed nose and always a scowl on his face. And he was dressed very handsomely. But I overheard him yelling at the new manager about guests being allowed to stay while they renovated downstairs, and especially about wasting free lodging on a foreigner."

"That sounds like it could be one of any number of my dad's friends, to be honest," Scorpius said, immediately regretting it when he saw the look on Cort's face. "Well, not friends, really … acquaintances. And my dad's not really like that at all. Like, he hasn't gone back to his Death Eater ways or … you know … some names just -"

"What I think old Scorp here is trying to say," Albus interjected, "is that you should hang with us when we go to Hogwarts. We aren't the most popular kids, but we're definitely the coolest." Albus gave Cort a wink and his award winning smile, and the three boys shook on it.

The three boys spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Diagon Alley together, and by the time Scorpius and Albus tumbled out of the fireplace of Number 16, Heath Lane, both boys knew Cort would be spending a lot more time with them when they returned to Hogwarts. Now, all Scorpius had to decide was whether he was ready to share his friend with someone else.


	5. Chapter 4: Restless Sleep

**Chapter Four: Restless Sleep**

The night before they were to return to Hogwarts, all of the Potter children, their parents, plus Scorpius sat down to eat dinner together.

This was the first time Albus and Scorpius had been in the same room with Mr Potter since their trip to Knockturn Alley and the Leaky Cauldron. In fact, although Scorpius had been eager to quiz Harry Potter about the goings on in Germany and the sale of London's oldest pub, Albus seemed to have been going to some uncomfortable lengths to avoid his father. But there was no avoiding him now.

Throughout most of dinner Scorpius had made few contributions to the conversations happening, other than to thank Mrs Potter for the meal and comment on how delicious everything was. Albus, too, had chosen to remain mostly quiet through dinner, though his silence came across as rather surly to Scorpius. Those few times Albus did choose to contribute, it usually took the form of a barely audible grunt, or a slow and tortured, "Suuure," or an under-the-breath-but-still-loud-enough-for-everyone-to-hear groan. Although they had been best friends for four years already, Scorpius still couldn't understand Albus' behaviour around his family; it sometimes seemed as though he was inviting his father to chastise him. To Mr Potter's credit, he hadn't yet taken the bait.

"Are you all looking forward to heading back to Hogwarts tomorrow?" Harry asked as the group was finishing up their meal.

"Yeah," James said, "But I'm also excited to see what comes next, when I graduate at the end of the year. I've been thinking about applying to join the Ministry when I leave Hogwarts, maybe even applying to the Auror Office." Scorpius made a grunting scoff, which was met by a steely stare from his older brother that dared him to say something.

"Nothing," Scorpius said, raising his hands. "Your answer was just kind of predictable, that's all. Perfect answer from the perfect son."

"That's enough," Ginny interjected. "We've had a nice evening tonight, let's not ruin it."

"Ruin it like I ruin everything else?" Albus muttered under his breath. No one replied, but it was obvious to Scorpius that everyone sitting at the table had heard his friend.

"Well, anyway, that sounds like a great plan," Harry said to James, trying to pick the conversation up where it had been interrupted.

"Oh, no it doesn't," Ginny said. "You know how dangerous that line of work is, Harry. You couldn't possibly be considering encouraging James to join the Auror's Office straight out of Hogwarts."

Albus tossed his fork onto his empty plate, making a loud clatter that surprised everyone at the table. "May I be excused?" He didn't wait for an answer, immediately standing and stalking into the living room, turning the TV on as he collapsed into one of the soft armchairs.

"Well," James said. "That was a display."

"We almost lasted all of dinner," Lily added, rolling her eyes.

Scorpius didn't know if he should follow his friend into the living room or stay seated with his hosts at the dining table.

"Harry," Ginny said softly, sweetly. "Go and talk to him."

"Ginny, love, I don't think that will do any good. He's always so angry." It surprised Scorpius to hear the Potters talk about Albus this way. His witty, enigmatic, joyful Albus. "He clearly doesn't want to talk, and besides, I have no idea what -"

"Do you not remember how you were in your fifth year at Hogwarts?" Ginny cut across. "Because I do. And what you needed then was the exact same thing Albus needs now. Go," she finished, gently. "Scorpius, why don't you help me take these dishes to the kitchen."

As the table broke up Scorpius realised he was about to miss his chance to quiz Mr Potter about everything he'd heard from Cort at the Leaky Cauldron, but he dutifully followed Mrs Potter into the kitchen. As he carried the dishes to the sink he heard Mrs Potter utter an incantation under her breath, and a wall magically appeared, closing off the kitchen from the rest of the Potter's open-planned living space.

"There," Ginny said, "a bit of privacy for my boys. And for us, too." She said this last part with a smile, but something in the crease of her eyes told Scorpius Mrs Potter had something on her mind.

"You know, Scorpius," Mrs Potter began, "Albus really is a different person when he's with you. I see him light up in a way I haven't seen in a long time … not since he was a little boy." Ginny looked as though she was fighting back tears, but she held her hand to Scorpius' face and cupped his cheek. "Thank you for that."

Scorpius didn't know what to say, so he just smiled awkwardly for a moment, until Mrs Potter had dropped her hand and turned to begin magically cleaning the dishes.

"Why …" Scorpius struggled to find the right words, words that wouldn't seem like he was prying, but that would also help him to better understand this different version of Albus he'd met these last few days. "Why is Albus so … angry around Mr Potter?"

"Well, I think," Ginny began, not turning from the sink, "sometimes we want something so desperately that we can't even bare to admit it to ourselves, in case putting words or even thought to it will open a door we can't walk away from. I think that's how Albus feels, sometimes. He desperately wants his father's approval and his love, but he's terrified to admit that even to himself, in case he's disappointed by what happens next. And, so, instead of risking being disappointed by his father, he manufactures these situations where the only possible response from Harry is the predictable one, the one Albus is already expecting.

"The funny thing is, if Albus and Harry could just let themselves be vulnerable with each other for a moment, they would realise they both want the exact same thing." Ginny turned from the sink to look at Scorpius, wiping away a tear as she moved. "They're remarkably similar in many ways. Albus reminds me so much of Harry when he was his age. I'm sure you can see why I fell in love with him." Ginny smiled gently at Scorpius, who broke eye contact quicker than he'd intended.

Scorpius let the moment pass with a brief silence before he spoke. "We want something so badly we can't dare to admit it, even to ourselves? You sound pretty wise, Mrs Potter."

"Oh, don't get me started," Ginny said, laughing. "I'm the font of all knowledge. And for the last time, call me Ginny."

"Yes, Mrs Potter," Scorpius said with a smile. "Oh! Actually, seeing as you're the font of all knowledge, and you work at the Daily Prophet and all, can I ask you something?"

"Oh, shop talk? Go ahead."

"The other day when Albus and I were at the Leaky Cauldron we met a boy named Cort who said he was a magical refugee from Germany. I didn't even know we had a refugee program."

"Oh, wow! You boys really don't read the news, do you? Remind me to get Albus a subscription to the Daily Prophet. You know, I hear they have a pretty kick-ass sports reporter covering the Quidditch column again this year." Scorpius laughed, knowing this was the appropriate thing to do when an adult made the mistake of thinking they were being funny.

"Well," Mrs Potter continued, "It's a bit of a surprise neither of you knew about this already, since it's been all over the papers, but Hermione Granger recently began a refugee program to resettle wizards and witches fleeing persecution in Germany. She's been catching a lot of criticism for it, too. Even from within her own circle of close supporters, so they say."

"But why would people want to stop a program that helps people like Cort?"

"That's a much harder question to answer. A lot of people remember how terrible things became when Voldemort rose to power the last time, and, whether they like to admit it to themselves or not, they see something similar happening in Germany with this Gerwalt woman. So people want to remain neutral and not invite problems onto themselves."

"I guess the answer isn't so difficult, then," Scorpius said. "It's fear."

"True. Fear that by becoming involved in another country's conflict we will be dragged into another great wizarding war. Fear that the refugees will bring their problems with them, perhaps. And you can never forget good, old fashioned opportunism."

"I don't understand," Scorpius replied.

"Well, the Minister for Magic is a highly sought after position, and a number of people were hesitant to allow Hermione to rise to that rank in the first place. Don't give me that look," Ginny said playfully when she noticed a look of betrayal flash across Scorpius' face. "I love Hermione - I'm one of her oldest friends - but sometimes being a reporter means remaining objective, and the objective fact is that Hermione has never been the most popular girl in the class. She's willful, blunt, and smarter than everyone else in almost any room she sits down in. Those qualities make for a young woman a lot of enemies."

"That's not fair," Scorpius said. "She seems to be doing a great job so far."

"I agree, but sometimes it's not about how good a job you're doing, but about how good a job you look to be doing."

"So, I have a follow up question."

"Oh, one day you could make a fine little reporter," Ginny said, ruffling Scorpius' hair playfully. "Shoot."

"I think I understand why we aren't willing to help in Germany -"

"Not unwilling, just ... not eager to help in Germany," Ginny corrected.

"Ok, I think I understand why we aren't eager to help in Germany, but why are the Germans themselves allowing these things to happen."

"Another very good question, but I'm afraid I may not be the best person to answer this one. To be fair, and from what little I know, Gerwalt Boite isn't behaving like Voldemort did. Voldemort manipulated people from the shadows, controlling his followers with threats of violence and by generating fear of what might befall them if they dared cross him. Boite is much more … strategic, might be the word … or political? She's captured the people's hearts."

"What do you mean? Cort said she had been arrested for crimes against muggles."

"Arrested, yes, but never found guilty. And that was when she became really dangerous, because now all of a sudden she was able to portray herself as a vindicated young witch who had almost fallen victim to the very system she chooses to rail against. She became the nation's sweetheart overnight, and because her case was covered by every paper in Germany, she had a national platform to spread her message.

"That's probably the main quality that separates her from Voldemort: she doesn't operate from the shadows, but from a very public position, almost as a figurehead for a movement made up of wizards and witches from every walk of life: some naive and well-intentioned, and some outright dangerous." Ginny was becoming more and more animated as she spoke, and seemed to be delighted by the idea of a young person actually wanting to hear her thoughts on global politics.

"Plus, she's quite beautiful, which doesn't hurt. And when she advocates for something morally questionable she claims to be making the tough decisions for the best interests of the German Wizarding community. She's convinced many witches and wizards that the status quo is weakening Germany as a global power, and that she is the only one willing to fight for the future of her nation, since everyone with legitimate power are supposedly profiting from their positions and not to be trusted."

Suddenly, loud yelling could be heard coming from the living room, and Ginny was jolted back to the reality of her own family's politics. She gave Scorpius an apologetic look, and he knew she would need to leave soon to referee whatever argument had just broken out between Albus and his father.

"Thanks, Mrs Potter. You've given me lots to think about."

"Why don't you head upstairs? I'm sure Albus will be up shortly."

When Scorpius reached Albus' room he realised with a groan that he hadn't yet set up the inflatable bed he'd been sleeping on since arriving at the Potters. Albus' room wasn't really large enough to justify leaving it inflated every day, and, fearing he would become an unwelcome bother, Scorpius had refused Mrs Potter's initial offer of magical help. Now, though, he regretted not accepting the short cut.

Scorpius' head was swimming with questions. Something Mrs Potter had said early in their conversation had hit a nerve with the boy. "Sometimes we want something so desperately we can't bare to admit it to ourselves, in case putting words to it opens a door we can't walk away from." Scorpius had known for a long time, deep down, that his feelings for Albus had been growing in a new and unfamiliar direction. Last year, when he thought he'd lost Albus forever, he'd felt something so devastatingly painful that he couldn't put words to it.

Actually, that wasn't quite true. It's not that he couldn't put words to the feelings he had slowly, steadily been developing for Albus. The truth was that Scorpius didn't want to put words to them. He didn't even want to ask the question.

Now, for the first time, Scorpius wondered if this was because he was afraid of what the answer might be; afraid of opening a door he couldn't walk away from. And what would be on the other side of that door? Rejection? Embarrassment? The end to the greatest friendship Scorpius had ever known?

And what was with that meaningful, almost sad look Mrs Potter had given him when she mentioned how similar Harry and Albus were, and how he could imagine how she had fallen in love with her husband as children?

And there it was. The word Scorpius had been purposefully avoiding, deliberately rejecting since the end of last year. Love.

Scorpius' head was spinning, and he felt like he needed to cry. He dropped down onto Albus' bed, burying his face into the other boy's pillow, and wished his mother was still with him. She'd know what to do. She'd know the answer to his problem, even if the solution was just to hold him tight and tell him everything would be ok.

Scorpius stayed like that for several minutes, listening to the dull roars coming from downstairs, burying himself deeper and deeper into the comforting duvet that lay atop Albus' bed. As he breathed in his friend's scent, he drifted into a fitful sleep filled with bitter sweet dreams of his mother and Albus.

When Scorpius woke up he noticed the room had turned dark and that his t-shirt was damp with sweat. The next thing he noticed was the warmth of a body lying close to his, and the weight of an arm on his chest. Albus must have come upstairs some time after Scorpius had fallen asleep, and rather than wake his friend, he had climbed into bed next to him.

Scorpius's body reacted almost instantly upon realising that his best friend had stripped down to his boxers, as was his habit when going to bed. Now, along with the uncomfortable feeling of the damp collar around his neck, Scorpius had to deal with a pair of jeans that were painfully tight. He desperately wanted to escape the uncomfortable clothes, but to get out of bed he would have to climb over Albus, and he didn't want to wake his friend either.

Scorpius settled for a compromise, slowly lifting Albus' hand from his chest, then wriggling out of his t-shirt and jeans with as little movement and noise as he could manage. His jeans he kicked to the bottom of the bed, and his t-shirt he balled up and threw over Albus, onto the floor. Unfortunately, Scorpius' aim had never been particularly good, and his t-shirt managed to knock a lamp off Albus' desk before finding the floor.

"Clumsy," Albus smirked, his eyes still closed.

"Sorry," Scorpius winced, hating his bad aim. Not only had he woken his friend, but now he was going to have to leave Albus' bed and set up the air matress. Or worse - what if Albus wanted to know why Scorpius was in his bed in the first place?

"That's OK. I woke up when your jeans were somewhere between you knees and your ankles anyway. Just go back to sleep."

"Don't you want me to make up my inflatable?"

"No, don't worry about it," Albus said drowsily. "After two weeks on an inflatable you deserve a real bed." Albus gave a closed-eye smirk a second time.

Scorpius couldn't believe his luck. He'd seen his friend in his boxers plenty of times before - they shared a dorm room, after all - but he'd never been this close to Albus when he was this nearly naked. All that seperated the boys' bodies were two thin pieces of silk. Scorpius' heart was beating wildly, and he was shocked Albus couldn't hear it from where he lay.

"Wow, Scorp," Albus said. "Is that your heart beating?" And with that, Albus turned onto his side towards Scorpius, rested his ear against Scorpius' chest, and threw an arm across his chest. "That's beating a mile a minute, and you're breathing funny. You ok?"

"Ah, yeah." Scorpius muttered. "Just … a bad dream, I think. I was dreaming of my mum." This wasn't a lie, but Scorpius felt guilty using the memory of his dead mother to cover up for whatever confusing feelings he was having towards his best friend in that moment.

"Sorry," Albus said softly. "I'm still sorry I couldn't have been with you, when … you know." Albus adjusted his head, and made to move away from Scorpius, but seemed to have second thoughts, instead nudging in closer to the other boy. His arm was still resting on Scorpius' chest, now more like an embrace than before, and he had moved his left leg to lean on Scorpius'. Scorpius was glad Albus hadn't moved his leg any higher on his body, or he would have had some serious explaining to do.

The two boys lay like this for a long moment, and the calm rhythm of Albus' breathing was soon echoed by Scorpius. When it seemed like Albus was about to pull away from the embrace, Scorpius uttered, "Don't -" but he didn't have the courage to finish that sentence. Still, Albus seemed to get the message, and after a moment that seemed an eternity to Scorpius, Albus relaxed his body against his own once more, and this time sleepily nuzzled his head into Scorpius' shoulder.

Scorpius couldn't be sure how long he lay like this with his best friend. He knew he remained awake long after Albus had drifted back to sleep, his gentle breathing being interrupted every so often with the softest of snores. Scorpius was still struggling to come to terms with the feelings he had held deep down for Albus for so long, but he promised himself that he wouldn't let any of that get in the way of him soaking in this moment - the smell of Albus' hair, his breath running gently across Scorpius' chest, his fingers resting on his bare skin, the playful way the waistband of Albus' boxers rose up and away from his skin as it travelled between his belly and the peak of his hip bone, leaving a fraction of a gap to tempt and torture Scorpius.

Soon, the harsh break of dawn would come and wake the Potter household, stealing away as it did the dying moments of the greatest Summer Holiday Scorpius had ever lived. But for now, Scorpius could drift off to sleep feeling safe and complete in the warm embrace of his best friend.

* * *

 _If you've made it this far, I really do hope you're enjoying reading and thanks! Took us four chapters, but we're finally starting to see Scorpius' feelings for Albus come to the forefront. Next chapter should be just as focused on Scorpius and Albus' relationship as they wake from their night together and head to Platform 9 3/4._

 _I truly love to hear from readers, so please leave a review (feel free to be as constructive as you like) and let me know what you think. What would you like to see more of? Less of?_

 _Thanks again!_


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